


Look at the wonderful mess that we made

by littletrenchcoatangel



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M, Mavin, RageHappy, blame tumblr, i don't even fuckin know okay, ray's my baby, you can pretty much bet on the fact that all of my mavin fics will include ray in one way or another
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 11:19:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littletrenchcoatangel/pseuds/littletrenchcoatangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Well?” the Brit asks.</p><p>“Well, what?”</p><p>Gavin smirks, a laugh bubbling up as he watches Michael turn to him. “What’s the story of Icarus, you donut?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look at the wonderful mess that we made

**Author's Note:**

> I did it again, guys, I'm sorry.
> 
> I don't even know why I ship these two losers, they're just... they're kind of adorable.
> 
> Just read it and leave me alone ajfdklasjefrioa
> 
> also lulz fuck the non-american way of spelling donut no one needs those extra letters
> 
> TEEN AND UP FOR INAPPROPRIATE LANGUAGE. EVIDENTLY. THIS IS MICHAEL 'RAGE QUIT' JONES WE'RE TALKING ABOUT.
> 
> he's got such an innocent name for a guy who gets so worked up over nothing
> 
> /i can't write drunk people i'm sorry

  
“I wasn’t kidding, you know. About the sun thing.”

The statement comes out of nowhere, and Gavin looks around for a few seconds before he spots Michael, nursing a beer, on the steps leading back inside.

Gavin approaches him and stands before his friend. “What?”

“You’re the sun, Gavin; don’t you remember?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

Instead of answering his question, Michael just asks another.

“Have you ever heard the story of Icarus?”

Gavin furrows his brow and shakes his head. The name sounds familiar, but he can’t recall from where.

Michael scoffs, taking a large swig from the bottle in his hand. “Of course you haven’t.”

He’s silent for a long time, so Gavin takes a seat beside him.

“Well?” the Brit asks.

“Well, what?”

Gavin smirks, a laugh bubbling up as he watches Michael turn to him. “What’s the story of Icarus, you donut?”

“Oh, well… Icarus was the son of a guy…. Daeda-something, who wanted to escape from… Crete, I think. There was an island. Icarus and his dad wanted to get off it. So, his dad, who was, like, good at making shit, made them some wings.”

“Why didn’t he build a boat?” Gavin interrupts.

“I don’t fucking know, Gavin. That’s not the point. The guy made them wings. Out of feathers and shit. And he used wax to stick them together. A set for him, and a set for Icarus. They went up to this big cliff, right, and the dad was telling Icarus stuff like ‘don’t fly too close to the sea, cause it’ll fuck up your wings and you’ll fall into the sea and drown’ and ‘don’t fly too close to the sun, cause the wax’ll melt and you’ll fall into the sea and drown’ and all that, and Icarus was like ‘alright, cool, let’s go’. So they get up there, and the dad tells Icarus again ‘son, don’t fuck this up, just follow me and don’t fucking drown’, and Icarus is like ‘yeah, yeah, whatever’, and the dad takes off.”

Michael stops as a group of people at the party walk past them, heading inside, and Gavin finishes his drink as he waits for him to start talking again.

“What happens next?” he prompts, when Michael doesn’t speak, just stares at Gavin with a small smile on his face.

“What?”

“After the dad takes off from the cliff, Michael. What happens to Icarus?”

“Oh, well, he takes off, too, obviously. Spreads his home-made wings and flies.”

“And that’s it?” Gavin doesn’t understand why Michael wanted to tell him the story if nothing interesting happens. What’s so great about people flying off an island with wings made of wax?

Michael makes a face and laughs. “What? No. Jesus Christ, Gavin, that’d be stupid. Icarus fucks up, obviously.”

“What did he do?”

“He got high off the rush of flying or something. He started swooping and diving and fucking around like a complete toss-pot, and ended up flying too close to the sun.” Michael finishes his drink and sets the bottle down on the step beside his feet and Gavin’s, before he looks up at Gavin, who has a surprised look on his face. “The wax melted and he fell into the sea. And then he drowned, ‘cause people in Greek mythology couldn’t swim, apparently.”

 “What?” the American asks, when Gavin’s expression doesn’t change.

“What happened to his dad?”

Michael shrugs. “Probably killed himself or something, I dunno. Isn’t that usually what happens in those kinds of stories?”

Gavin shrugs and looks away, out at the people that are still partying away a few metres from them.

Michael doesn’t say anything after that, and Gavin sits beside him in companionable silence for a while before something comes to mind.

“What’d you mean, before?” he asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

“When?”

“When you said you weren’t kidding about the sun thing. What’s that mean? What’s it got to do with that Icarus guy?”

Michael’s cheeks flush slightly, though Gavin believes it’s because of the alcohol that someone’s handed them, and he doesn’t answer.

“Michael?” he asks, the name heavily accented due to his partially-drunken state.

Michael is silent for a minute before he decides, 'to hell with it', and looks up from the bottle in his hand.

“Well, Icarus flew too close to the sun, didn’t he? Cause he got excited about flying. And, like, let’s imagine that… I’m Icarus, right. And, I mean, I’m not supposed to fly off course or I’ll go crazy and drown – metaphorically, obviously – but it’s too tempting. And I should be trying to stay on course, but it’s too tempting to fly higher and go faster and stuff. But the closer I get to the sun, the more dangerous it is, and that’s what-”- ‘ _that’s what it feels like with you_ ’, the American doesn’t say.

“Are you saying you think it’s dangerous to get close to me, Michael?” Gavin says, after Michael cuts himself off.

Michael nods once, and Gavin laughs. “You’re close to me right now, you idiot. I’m not dangerous at all.”

“Not like – not like that, Gavin, Jesus. I’m not fucking scared of you or anything. I mean, like… like feelings. And stuff.” Michael hopes Gavin is too drunk to remember this in the morning, and vows to get himself drunk enough so that he doesn’t remember it at all, because he never meant to confess it, least of all to Gavin.

Gavin, who is staring at Michael in shock, his mouth open slightly as he remains completely silent.

“Michael, do you – do you _like_ me?” Gavin asks, after a minute.

“Yeah, Gavin, ‘course I like you. You’re my best friend.”

“Michael,” Gavin scolds. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Michael swallows heavily and looks away from the Brit, watching the people across the yard interact with each other.

“Yeah, Gavin. I like you.”

“But you don’t… _want_ to like me?”

Gavin’s confusion, combined with just how uncharacteristically sad he sounds, makes Michael turn to look at him, though he regrets it immediately when he sees the dejected look on his best friend’s face.

“No, I- That’s not what I- I mean-”

Gavin stands, looks at Michael, and shakes his head. “It’s alright, Michael. I understand.”

Michael feels rage – completely uncalled for, and completely unwanted – bubble up inside his chest, sobering him up almost instantly. He gets to his feet and follows Gavin, who is walking away from him, around the corner of the building. He waits until they’ve passed into the shadows to grab Gavin by the shoulder, pulling the taller man around to face him.

“What the fuck does that mean, Gavin? ‘ _I understand_ ’. What the fuck is that?”

Gavin shakes him off, saying nothing, and turns to start walking again. Michael calls after him, but Gavin keeps walking. He reaches the opposite corner of the building, just before where the light hits, and Michael follows him, almost bumping into him as he stops.

The younger of the two turns around, facing his friend, and his shoulders rise and fall in a silhouetted shrug.

“It means I understand, Michael. You don’t want to like me. There’s nothing else to it.”

“Bullshit there’s not,” Michael says.

“What else could there _be_ , Michael? You said it yourself, you-”

“I didn’t say anything, Gavin, what the hell are you even talking about? I like you, you moron. A lot more than a guy should like his best friend. I bought us matching necklaces, for fuck’s sake.”

“You said I was the sun to your Icarus,” Gavin reminds him.

“So fucking what, Gavin? It doesn’t mean I like you any less. I just – it was a metaphor, dickhead.”

Gavin says nothing, and Michael can’t make out his expression, so he keeps talking, his voice softer as he realises that he’s almost yelling.

“I don’t want to ruin this, okay? Our – our friendship, or whatever. You – you’re my best friend, Gavin, and I don’t wanna fuck that up by falling in love with you.” ‘Never mind that I already am’, he thinks.

Gavin is quiet for so long that Michael almost contemplates leaving him there. But then, out of nowhere, so quiet he almost misses it, he hears the words, “I already did.”

“What?”

“I already did,” Gavin repeats, louder this time.

“You – _what_?”

“I – I’m in love with you.”

Michael’s heart almost stops. Watching his expression change in the little light that comes from behind him, Gavin’s almost does too. Michael’s face _falls._ His mouth drops open and every ounce of expression other than complete and utter shock drops away, and Gavin watches it happen.

“I- Gavin, I-”

“Goddammit, just _kiss_ already!” someone shouts, possibly Ray, judging by the almost-perfect pronunciation of the words, and Gavin jumps slightly where he stands.

“Gav,” Michael starts, putting everything he feels for Gavin into that one syllable. He still feels the same about everything - he doesn’t want to fuck up his friendship with Gavin, and he doesn’t know what being in an actual relationship will do to that – but he cannot deny that he does feel more for his best friend than a best friend probably should.

Gavin says nothing, just reaches forward and pulls Michael to him, wrapping his long limbs around the older man, and buries his fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck, using his hand to help guide Michael’s lips to his.

 ***

On the front porch, just close enough to have heard the entire conversation, Ray sits, nursing a can of soft drink, with a smile on his face.

He can’t hold back a laugh when he hears the slightly muffled cry of ‘you just kissed my fucking eye, Gavin!’ and he has to cover his mouth when he hears a muttered ‘sorry, love’ followed by a groan.

**Author's Note:**

> BLAME THE SURGEON SIMULATOR, OKAY. BLAME IT FOR EVERYTHING.
> 
> Title's from a Bastille song. Flaws, I think.
> 
> Story was inspired by the Bastille song 'Icarus'. Just... y'know... because. And also "You're the sun" 'You're the- wow, okay, wasn't expecting that' or whatever it is that those two assholes said.
> 
> Frickin' Michael.
> 
> This was originally gonna be a majorly unrequited-love-centric 'one person remembers the convo and the other person doesn't' kind of angsty fic, but then I thought... nah, man, these guys are gonna be feelin love up to their face-holes. And Ray's gonna laugh about it.
> 
> but one day i will write an angsty story and y'all are gonna cry your balls off
> 
> so wATCH OUT


End file.
